


Crossword Puzzle

by Middle_Earth_NZ



Series: Light up the Dark [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Iron Man 3, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tony Stark Angst, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-01 07:29:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14515422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Middle_Earth_NZ/pseuds/Middle_Earth_NZ
Summary: A mysterious accident happening in Avengers Tower, Tony Stark hurt - and unable to remember what happened? For some reason, Steve can't help but feel like there's more to the story than Tony is trying to make him believe...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Crossword Puzzle](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/377820) by Middle-Earth NZ. 



His brow furrowed in concentration, Steve stared down at the crossword puzzle in his lap, as if glaring at it intently would make the words appear magically. A nine-letter word for an ‘abnormally high respiratory frequency’. Gnawing his lip, he tried to think of the correct answer. Maybe it was supposed to be the medical term?

Steve sighed. _“I wish Bruce was here,”_ he thought. _“He’d probably know.”_ But since he and Tony were the only Avengers present in the tower right now, he didn’t have the chance to ask the scientist. Well, he could ask Tony – he would probably know too, being his genius self – but Steve certainly wasn’t going to run down to his workshop and bother him with some crossword puzzle. He could already imagine the billionaire’s amused snort and cocked eyebrow as he asked him who the hell was still doing crossword puzzles nowadays, with pen and paper and everything. Jarvis wasn’t an option either at the moment – Tony had told him half an hour ago that the AI would be offline for a major update for some time.

With a shrug, Steve focused on his crossword puzzle again. There were still enough words to think about.

***

About twenty minutes later, he was torn from his thoughts by a bodiless voice. “Captain Rogers.”

Steve jumped at the sudden words and accidently dropped his pen. After the few weeks he had been living at the tower now, he still hadn’t gotten used to Jarvis speaking up out of nothing and without anyone prompting him. Well, at least he knew now that the AI was back online.

“I am sorry to interrupt you, but it seems like Mr. Stark requires your assistance,” Jarvis continued. He sounded almost… urgent? Steve frowned as he got up. Tony had never before asked him for help with his work. And quite frankly, why would he? Steve was the last person – apart from Thor maybe – who might be of any help when it came to Tony’s inventions. “Sure, I’ll be right down,” he said as he headed towards the elevator, his voice sounding as surprised as he felt. “What am I supposed to help him with?”

“Mr. Stark is currently lying in the workshop unconscious,” Jarvis replied as if that answered everything.

“He- _what?!_ ” Steve called in disbelief as the elevator started to move. “Unconscious? What for Heaven’s sake happened?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know, Captain Rogers. I was offline for 41.38 minutes of which I have no data. I only came back online and learned of Mr. Stark’s state when my update was finished barely a minute ago.”

Steve cursed inwardly, waiting impatiently for the elevator to come to a halt. When the doors slid open, he quickly punched in his access code and all but rushed into the workshop. “Tony?” he called as he looked around frantically, not even realizing that his fellow Avenger wouldn’t be able to hear him, much less answer him in his current state.

Before Steve could ask Jarvis for Tony’s location in the large room, he found him: He was lying on the floor next to one of his vintage cars, facedown and unmoving. Dum-E was hovering over his creator, his claw prodding at Tony’s t-shirt as if trying to wake him up. The scene would have warmed Steve’s heart if he weren’t so concerned about his friend. Dum-E made a whirring noise as Steve fell to his knees next to Tony. His heart was hammering in his chest. “Tony? Oh God, Tony, can you hear me?” When he received no answer, the super soldier carefully turned his friend onto his back, reaching out to take his pulse. As his fingers touched Tony’s neck, he found the skin there slick with sweat. Still, Steve sighed in relief when he felt a steady pulse against his fingertips. Quickly, he scanned the unconscious man for obvious injuries, grateful when he couldn’t find anything except what looked like a bruise at the side of his forehead. Carefully, Steve pushed sweat-soaked brown hair aside to take a closer look. It didn’t seem to be too bad, but the super soldier was well aware of the fact that bruises and lumps on the head usually took their time to develop.

He became aware of Dum-E’s presence again when his claw/head/whatever appeared next to him, a sad-sounding noise erupting. Steve, still worried, but also relieved his friend didn’t seem to be hurt too badly, didn’t have the heart to tell him off for being in the way, so he gently pushed the robot aside, saying, “He’s gonna be okay, Dum-E. If you want to help, you can go find him a blanket, all right?”

The robot bleeped excitedly, probably happy to help, and rushed off to accomplish his new mission.

With Dum-E gone, Steve carefully shifted his friend into the recovery position, not wanting to risk moving him somewhere else when he couldn’t make sure Tony didn’t have any internal injuries. It didn’t take the robot long to come back, excitedly whirring as he did so. Gratefully, Steve took the offered blanket out of Dum-E’s claw, splaying the dark red fabric over Tony’s unconscious form and tucking the edges under him to keep him warm. When he was done, the billionaire still didn’t show any signs of waking.

“Jarvis?” he asked, looking up to the ceiling.

“Yes, Captain Rogers?” the AI replied smoothly.

“Do you think we should call an ambulance?”

There was a short pause before he got a reply. “Past experiences show that Mr. Stark will probably not agree with being taken to a hospital. If you want my opinion, I would still wait.”

Steve nodded hesitantly. Tony had probably programmed his AI not to call an ambulance in case something like this happened, but Steve knew Jarvis’ top priority was to keep his creator save. And that had to outweigh everything else, right? “Okay, but I’ll at least call Bruce. He’ll know what to do.” Jarvis didn’t reply to that, so Steve took his phone out, quickly tapping Bruce’s contact before pressing the device to his ear, all the while keeping a watchful eye on Tony.

It didn’t take the scientist long to answer the call. “Bruce here.”

“Hey Bruce, it’s Steve,” the super soldier began. “Listen, I just found Tony unconscious in his workshop, and Jarvis told me not to call an ambulance for the time being. Can you come over?”

There was a stunned silence. “Of course, I’ll come as quickly as possible. What happened?” Bruce sounded about as concerned as he felt himself.

“I don’t know,” Steve replied, shaking his head as he looked down on Tony’s pale face helplessly. “Jarvis was offline for some update, and when he came back online, he told me he found Tony like this. He’s got a lump on his head, that’s all I can tell. There are no signs of an-” He cut himself off when he saw Tony’s face twitch. “Bruce, he’s waking up, I gotta hang up. Please hurry!” Steve tapped the red phone symbol and tossed the device aside, leaning over his friend. “Tony, can you hear me?” he inquired carefully. Receiving no reaction apart from a furrowed brow, he touched his fellow Avenger’s shoulder lightly. “Tony?” he called louder.

“Shuttup,” Tony finally groaned, his speech slurred. “Lemme sleep!”

Steve felt so relieved he let out a breathless chuckle. Tony Stark was the only person who managed to make him laugh after having regained consciousness only seconds ago. That he had already proven after the Chitauri incident. This time, however, it was obvious he was in pain, so Steve quickly turned serious again. “I’m sorry, Tony, but I need you to stay awake for a bit. Can you open your eyes?”

The billionaire blinked a few times, his eyes still narrowed as they met Steve’s. “Fuck, is it always this bright in here?” he muttered, probably more to himself than to anyone else. Still, the lights dimmed the second the words left his mouth. “Thanks, J,” Tony slurred, but his eyelids were drooping again.

“Hey.” Steve placed a hand on his comrade’s shoulder once more. “Don’t fall asleep.”

“’m not sleeping, jus’ resting my eyes…”

Steve’s lips twitched in a half-smile. “Well, if you say so.” He paused. “Tony, what happened to you? When Jarvis told me you were lying down here unconscious, I thought you had done some reckless experiment on your suit again or blown yourself up or something like that.”

Tony blinked up at him, staring into Steve’s eyes for a long moment before an emotion he couldn’t quite identify shadowed the billionaire’s face. “I… I can’t remember,” he eventually said, breaking the eye contact and trying to push himself up into a sitting position. Steve was just about to open his mouth to stop him, but then Tony was talking again, already much more lucid than just a minute ago. “Even got a blanket for me, Cap. You take such good care of your team,” he commented teasingly.

“Actually, Dum-E brought it for you,” Steve corrected with a nod towards the robot who was hovering nearby. He was aware that the sarcasm was brought up like a protective wall right now. Tony hated being seen as weak, and this situation was bound to be uncomfortable for him, so Steve decided to pretend he didn’t notice. However, he was aware of another thing as well: He was a hundred per cent sure Tony had been lying when he’d said he couldn’t remember what had happened.

“You sure you should be sitting up already?” Steve focused on his struggling friend again, gripping his upper arms to support him as he tilted sideways again. Tony didn’t grace him with an answer, instead slumping against the car at his back and blinking rapidly with unfocused eyes.

Steve frowned. “Tony? You okay?”

Tony met his gaze and swallowed thickly. Then, he nodded, the small movement barely visible. “Just felt kinda sick and dizzy for a second there,” he replied, obviously trying to give it a casual note, but the pallor of his face and the stark contrast of the bump on his brow all but ruined the effect.

Steve studied him intently for a moment until a whirring sound caught his attention. Dum-E had rolled up next to them, carrying a trash can which he was now bumping into Tony’s chest. The billionaire eyed it for a second, perplexed, then he looked up to glare at the robot. “Hey, I don’t need that! Just because I said I felt sick for a moment doesn’t mean I’m gonna puke all over the place!”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh at the indignant expression on his friend’s features as he pushed Dum-E’s claw away. “Well, he knows he’d be the one on cleaning duty,” he shot back with a grin before taking the trash can from the robot and putting it on the floor. “Thank you, Dum-E, that’s very helpful of you.” Dum-E bleeped happily before rolling back again.

“Don’t encourage him,” Tony grumbled, still shooting glares at the robot. “Wrecking years of good education…”

Steve shook his head, the grin still on his lips. He was just glad that his friend felt good enough to have nonsensical conversations like this. “If you call that ‘good education’, I’m sorry to tell you you’d make a terrible father,” he mused with mock disappointment.

Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re one to speak, Capsicle! If you had children, they’d no doubt be threatened with going to bed hungry if they didn’t sing the Star-Spangled Banner every morning, or if they swo-” Tony cut himself off with a hiss, one hand flying to his head.

All at once, every humor left Steve. “Shit, Tony? What’s wrong?” He put both of his hands on his friend’s shoulders again, stabilizing him as he sagged forward. “Watch your l-language, Cap,” the billionaire managed to get out between clenched teeth, eyes squeezed shut as he pressed his hand to his temple. As much as he appreciated Tony’s sarcasm – right now, Steve could have slapped him. “To-”

“Fuck, this hurts! Why does it hurt so much? A second ago it wasn’t this bad!” the Avenger rambled on, fingers clenched in his hair in pain.

Steve was at a loss of what to do. He had no medical training apart from what he had learned in the army, so he had no clue how to help. Rubbing a hand soothingly up and down his friend’s shoulder, he said, “Listen, I called Bruce before you woke up, and he’ll be here in a few minutes, okay? He’ll know what to do. Just take a deep breath for now, I’m sure it’s gonna pass in a minute.” At least his voice was steady and didn’t show his worry, Steve thought. He knew his affirmations were probably utterly useless, but the least he could do was try and comfort his friend.

Tony didn’t acknowledge his words, but to Steve’s relief he began to breathe slowly and deeply, for once listening to an advice. The next few moments passed in silence. Steve spent them watching Tony closely with a worried crease in his brow, his hand never stopping to rub his shoulder comfortingly.

Finally, after what felt like ages but couldn’t have been more than a couple of seconds, Tony let his hand sink to his side again. His eyes remained closed as he leaned his head against the car.

“Better?” Steve inquired concernedly, and Tony nodded faintly. “Holy shit, that was intense,” he said eventually, his voice hoarse. His lips pulled into a grin that resembled a pained grimace more than anything else. “Think I’ve got a concussion,” Tony concluded, making it sound like it was the most usual thing in the world.

 _‘You don’t say,’_ Steve thought sarcastically. Aloud he said, “I think we should leave the diagnosis to Bruce. He should be here any minute now. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Tony shook his head lightly. “Nah, I’m good, Cap. Although… Can we move somewhere else? The floor is kinda cold and uncomfortable.”

Steve hesitated. “I don’t think you should move at all until Bruce took a look at you.”

Unsurprisingly, Tony rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, Steve! My head hurts and I’m a little dizzy, that’s all. And you wouldn’t let me fall on my pretty face, would you, oh great American hero?” he grinned teasingly.

Steve sighed, remembering the way his friend had been suffering from an attack of intense pain just a minute ago. “Fine,” he agreed reluctantly. “But don’t blame me if anything goes wrong.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess,” Tony grinned, satisfied. Expectantly, he held his hand out to the super soldier in a non-verbal request to be helped up.

 _‘Well, if he’s back to ridiculous nicknames, he can’t feel that bad,’_ Steve decided, gripping the other Avenger’s hand and wrapping his free arm around his back before slowly pulling him upright. Tony swayed for a moment, blinking repeatedly as he leaned on Steve.

“You okay? We can still-”

“Nonsense, Cap, I’m fine. Let’s get going.”


	2. Chapter 2

Steve and Tony had just settled on the couch in the common area when Jarvis announced Bruce’s arrival. True enough, the elevator doors opened a moment later, revealing the scientist. His graying hair was ruffled, and despite the chilly weather outside he hadn’t bothered to zip up his jacket. He must really have hurried coming here.

Steve smiled as Bruce stepped out of the elevator. Before any of them was able to start speaking, however, Tony had pushed himself up, twisting awkwardly to face his arriving friend. “Brucie! Nice to see you’re back already!”

Steve wondered how the billionaire was able to be so genuinely enthusiastic despite the state he was in. Bruce, who knew their injured teammate far better than he did, just smiled, showing no sign of surprise. “Actually, I’d rather have it under different circumstances,” he retorted drily as he pulled off his jacket and sat down on the edge of the couch.

“Aw, don’t be so uptight! Just admit it, secretly you’re glad we spared you Fury’s ranting!” Even half-lying on a sofa while looking pale and beat-up, Tony still managed to look smug.

“ _Actually,_ my appointment with Fury was already over when I received your call,” he corrected with a glance at Steve. “Which you can be glad about, because otherwise I probably wouldn’t have picked up. Plus, if I had, Fury might have asked questions which wouldn’t meet your agreement, knowing you.” Before Tony could reply, Steve intervened, steering back to the topic at hand. “Now that that’s settled, how about we get started now?”

Bruce seemed happy to comply, so the next minutes he spent examining his patient’s bruised forehead, checking his pupils with a little flashlight and asking questions. All the while, Steve made sure Tony didn’t keep any details to himself. Eventually, Bruce confirmed Tony’s earlier suspect, diagnosing a mild concussion. He even succeeded in making him take some pain meds (only after a ten-minute-discussion which mostly consisted of ‘I’m fine, I don’t need them’ and ‘just take the damn pills, you’ll be grateful for it later’), and half an hour later, Tony was fast asleep on the couch. Steve had brewed some tea which he was now carrying into the living room. Bruce seemed grateful as he sipped from his mug, closing his eyes and leaning back in one of the luxurious armchairs. “Tony can be a handful, eh?” he quietly said with a crooked smile after Steve had settled in the opposite armchair. The super soldier sighed and ran a hand through his blond hair. “No doubt he can,” he replied with an equally low voice so as not to wake their friend up. “When Jarvis told me he was lying there unconscious, I thought he’d blown himself up or something.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Bruce agreed. Steve shook his head as he watched Tony with a fond expression on his face. “But you’re sure it’s only a mild concussion?” he inquired eventually. “No offence, I do not doubt your abilities as a doctor, but earlier he seemed to be in so much pain from one second to the other…”

Bruce didn’t seem to be offended, though. “I understand your concern, but it’s not an abnormal symptom. The painkillers I gave him should keep it at bay now.”

Steve nodded in relief. He hated seeing friends in pain, always feeling somewhat responsible for their wellbeing. “What do you think about the fact that he said he couldn’t remember what happened?” he asked, choosing his words carefully.

Bruce’s brows shot up. “You didn’t actually believe that, did you?”

Steve shook his head. “Of course not. Tony may be a good actor when it comes to hiding things, but straight out lying… That’s not his forte.”

Bruce nodded, seemingly lost in thought. He took a sip of his tea. “Do you have any clue what this might be about?”

Once again, Steve shook his head. “No idea. I mean, what could cause him to get such a bump on the head if he wasn’t experimenting on something? There was nothing that indicated anything.” He thought for a moment. “What’s weird, though, is that he was drenched in sweat when I found him. Although it’s not _that_ warm down there, and he’s not feverish either.” Steve looked up at Bruce for help, but the scientist seemed unable to make anything of that information either. He shrugged. “It could have many causes, both physical and mental ones. But it certainly doesn’t directly relate to the concussion.”

Steve sighed. “Another mystery, then.” He stood, gathering his empty tea mug. “I’m gonna start something for supper. You wanna keep an eye on Tony?”

When Bruce agreed, he headed towards the kitchen. Whatever reasons their friend might have to lie to them – Steve was determined to find out what had happened.

***

The rest of the evening passed quietly. Tony remained peacefully asleep, so they decided he needed rest more than food and refrained from disturbing him. If he woke up later, Steve could still warm something up for him in case he was hungry. The super soldier had volunteered to stay with Tony for the night after Bruce had explained that a concussed person shouldn’t be left alone for a while. He didn’t require much sleep anyway, so after Bruce had gone to bed, he settled in one of the armchairs with a book.

Still, Steve must have nodded off after a few hours because he jolted awake all of a sudden, disoriented and unable to determine what had woken him up. It took his sleep-addled mind a few seconds to remember where he was and why he was here before he let his gaze wander over to Tony – only to find he wasn’t there anymore. The blanket was lying abandoned on the couch, the soft pillow his friend had been sleeping on the only thing to keep it company.

The sudden feeling of alarm quickly ceased within Steve again – Tony was probably just going to the bathroom or getting a glass of water. Still, he couldn’t help but worry a little. In his condition, Tony could easily have gotten dizzy and fallen.

The reasonable part of Steve tried to reassure him – Jarvis would surely have alerted him if anything had happened. So he settled back into his armchair, gnawing his lip as he waited for Tony to return. Minutes passed like hours, and with every second, Steve’s concern grew. Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. “Jarvis, where’s Tony?”

“Mr. Stark is currently located in this floor’s bathroom,” the AI replied smoothly.

“Is he okay?” Steve pressed on concernedly.

Jarvis seemed to hesitate for a second. “I am not authorized to share that information.”

Well, if that didn’t cause every alarm bell to ring. With a few steps, Steve crossed the dimly lit room, striding along the corridor. A moment later, he was standing in front of the bathroom. He knocked lightly. “Tony?”

No answer.

“I know you’re in there,” Steve said, hoping it was really just his friend deciding to ignore him. What if he’d passed out again?

Still nothing.

“Tony, I’m coming in.” When Steve was about to do just that, he finally got a response. “No!” Tony’s voice was muffled by the door, so Steve almost missed it. He frowned. “Are you okay in there?”

“Yes.”

Steve’s frown deepened. It was unlike the billionaire to answer so tersely. Despite Tony’s unwillingness, he pushed down the handle, relieved that his friend hadn’t bothered locking the door. Only a small noise of protest erupted from inside the bathroom when Steve pushed the door open and took sight of him. Tony was sitting at the far end of the room, leaned against the tiled wall between the sink and the toilet. His face looked chalk-white in the bright light of the ceiling lamps, strands of his dark hair plastered to his damp forehead. Not even his hunched posture with his knees pulled to his chest was able to hide the way his body was wracked with shivers.

Steve stared at the other Avenger for a full second, too shocked by his appearance to move a single muscle. Finally, he got a grip on himself again, slowly closing the door behind himself without taking his gaze off his friend. “Tony? What’s wrong?” Steve inquired full of worry, not sure if the billionaire would appreciate him coming closer after originally refusing to let him in in the first place.

Tony’s eyes seemed even darker than usually, contrasting his pale face as he stared up at his teammate in silence for a few moments. “I’m fine,” he finally said tersely. His eyes were now averted in a way that said clearly he didn’t want Steve here.

The super soldier gaped at him in disbelief. Tony couldn’t be serious, could he? “Like hell you are!” it slipped out of Steve’s mouth. He took a step towards his friend. “Please, don’t lie to me. A blind man could tell that you’re as far from fine as possible!” Steve raised his hands in a helpless gesture. “I just want to help you.”

However, this seemed to be the wrong thing to say. When Tony met his gaze again, there was a stubborn expression on his features. “I don’t need any help, I just told you I’m fi-” He cut himself off with a choked sound, suddenly twisting sideways and hunching over the toilet before his whole body seemed to convulse as he violently vomited.

“Jesus, Tony!” Steve closed the distance left between them, crouching down next to him and resting a hand on his back, unsure if the gesture was welcome or not. However, Tony was too busy heaving to protest.

“And you wanted me to believe you’re fine?” Steve said mildly, concern audible in every word. The only answer he got was the sound of shallow panting as Tony was done vomiting, but frankly, he hadn’t expected anything else. Steve waited a moment longer to make sure he was actually finished before he got up to fill an empty glass from the bathroom cabinet with water which he offered to Tony. His friend accepted it with shaking hands, proceeding to rinse his mouth out and take careful sips.

“Do you feel better?” Steve asked compassionately as his friend put the half-empty glass down on the floor and ran the back of his hand over his mouth. Tony then shrugged, avoiding his gaze as he used a piece of toilet paper to blow his nose. Steve watched him concernedly, his lips pursed in thought. The other Avenger really didn’t look good.

Finally, Steve came to a decision. He stood, offering his hand to help Tony follow his example. "Come on, the cold floor won’t do you any good either. Let’s return to the living room, or your bedroom, if you like, and then I’m gonna wake Bruce. Looks like your concussion is worse than we thought.”

Tony, who had been about to grab Steve’s hand to pull himself to his feet, froze in midst the movement. He let his arm fall to his lap again. “No, don’t wake him up. I’m fine.”

Steve stared down at him in disbelief. Had he heard that right? His teammate didn’t actually expect him to believe that after he had just watched him throw up while kneeling on the bathroom tiles shaking and white as a sheet, did he? “Tony, you are aware that head injuries can be dangerous, right? Of course I’m no doctor, but even I can see that you’re definitely a lot worse than a few hours ago!”

But Tony shook his head in stubborn irritation. “I just told you I don’t need Bruce all over me asking questions again! After all, _I’m_ the one who this is about, so it’s my decision, not yours!”

Despite being taken aback by the by the sudden outburst, Steve was quick to reply. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we care about you,” he shot back. Tony’s irritation was rubbing off on him. “I do, Bruce does, and the others do too, even if they’re not here right now. And although you don’t seem to care about your own wellbeing, there are people who do! Don’t you get that into your stubborn head?” Steve exhaled angrily and shook his head. “I’m getting Bruce.” With that, he turned around, or at least intended to, but Tony’s hand was suddenly clutching his sleeve, stopping him in mid-movement. “No, don’t! It’s not-”

“Tony…” Steve interrupted him in annoyance, gently but firmly removing his friend’s clammy fingers from his hoodie. It was way too early for Steve’s liking to have this discussion. “I’m really getting tired of this! Why won’t you-”

“It’s not that!” Tony called, looking up at him desperately. “It’s not…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

Steve frowned. “It’s not what?”

Tony sighed. “It’s not the concussion.” His voice had suddenly lost all of its heat.

Steve’s frown deepened. “What do you mean, it’s not the concussion? Then why did you…?” He made a vague gesture that included the entire bathroom. Then, a thought struck him. “You’re not sick, are you?” He bent down in new worry, touching a palm to Tony’s forehead, careful not to press down on the colorful bruise. Tony turned his head away in an unsuccessful attempt to dodge Steve’s hand, uttering a noise of protest. “Stop that, I told you I’m fine! I’m not sick,” he said reluctantly.

Steve straightened up again, letting his hand fall to his side. “What is it then? There must be a reason for you sitting here vomiting, right?” he challenged.

“Just drop it, Steve! It’s nothing.”

Steve could feel his irritation return. “Tony…” But he had quite frankly no idea what to say anymore, so he closed his mouth again, and they stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment, both challenging the other one. Then, finally, the wall of stubbornness seemed to crack. Tony huffed angrily. “I had a nightmare, okay?” He threw up his hands in exasperation. “I woke up shaking and panicking once again, I didn’t know where I was at first, and I felt like shit, and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even _think_ properly, I just kept seeing those images, and then I felt sick, and…” Tony seemed to realize he was getting more and more agitated, so he cut himself off abruptly, dragging in a shaky breath. He looked up at Steve, a mixture of irritation and barely contained desperation in his dark eyes. “You happy now?!” His voice was bordering on hysterical, cracking on the last word.

Steve just silently returned his friend’s gaze for a long moment, trying to comprehend what he had just heard. He shook his head numbly. “This isn’t the first time this has happened, is it?”

Tony, too, shook his head mutely. He swallowed thickly as he was obviously trying to maintain what was left of his composure. The both of them were silent for a moment, Tony avoiding Steve’s gaze while the super soldier felt a sudden sense of déjà-vu as he thought back to the evening a few weeks ago when Tony had called him and finally talked about how he got nightmares and suffered from anxiety since the New York incident.

Right now, Steve was reminded of the way Tony had gotten more and more upset talking about his nightmares, the way he’d been pale and shaking. The way he himself had promised his friend they’d fix this. Still, nothing had happened, Steve realized. He certainly hadn’t forgotten about Tony’s issues, but after the whole team had moved into Avengers Tower, he simply hadn’t thought about it a lot anymore. Tony had always seemed fine, enthusiastic about his work, chattering and quipping whenever they interacted, fully capable on missions. Now, Steve realized how little of the billionaire he really knew, how much of himself Tony kept hidden behind a carefully crafted wall of charisma and sarcasm. The first glimpse behind that wall he had gotten that evening, and what he was seeing now were the first indications that it was finally crumbling beneath the weight of all it hid.

Steve realized he had been staring at his fellow Avenger for a full minute, lips pursed and brow creased in deep thought. Tony was returning his gaze now, and the expression on his pale face was a mixture of nervousness, insecurity and something else the super soldier couldn’t quite place, maybe like he was expecting a specific reaction from him.

Finally, Steve exhaled full of determination. He had promised his friend his help all those weeks ago, and it was a promise he intended to keep. For the second time that night, he offered Tony his hand. “Come on, we’re going back to the living room, and then we’re gonna talk.”

Tony didn’t look too enthusiastic about Steve’s plan, but he took the offered hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.


	3. Chapter 3

When Tony was back on the couch again, huddled in a blanket, Steve left for the kitchen, coming back a minute later with another glass of water and a package of saltine crackers which he’d found in one of the kitchen cabinets. He put both of the items down on the table in front of his friend, making an inviting gesture to encourage him to take the food.

When Tony was nibbling on a cracker, Steve took a seat next to him, making sure their shoulders didn’t touch. He knew that, since Tony’s emotional walls were crumbling, he had to feel exposed and vulnerable, so the least he could do was to give him some space in a physical sense. Steve kept quiet for a few minutes, intending to give his friend some time to get his thoughts together. Eventually, he softly cleared his throat. Beside him, Tony tensed slightly. It couldn’t have been more obvious how uncomfortable he was, despite the fact that they hadn’t even begun to talk. Still, Steve thought, Tony wasn’t one to allow others to bully him into doing things he didn’t want to do, so he must really be desperate enough to let himself in for this. Somehow, Steve wasn’t sure if he should be glad about that or not. “Do you want to talk about your nightmare?” he asked, careful not to make it sound like a request.

Tony shrugged. “Not really,” he muttered, gaze fixed on a spot on the tabletop. Still, he continued after a short pause, his voice tight. “It was the usual thing again, New York, the nuke and everything. But this time…” A slight tremor went through his body. “This time, the portal closed before I could reach it, and I just kept falling and falling, and then Pepper was there, and yet I couldn’t reach her-” Tony dragged in a ragged breath and shook his head. “Does that even make sense?”

Steve gave him a reassuring smile, keeping his face deliberately calm. “Dreams never really make sense after waking up, do they?”

Tony huffed a shaky laugh. “Right…” He shook his head again. “Anyway, there was Pepper, I could hear her scream in fear but I _just couldn’t reach her_ , and the longer I fell the further I got away from her. Yet, her screams were growing louder and louder, and she sounded so anguished. It was like her voice was in my head, and it was so loud it _hurt_ , but then it was silent all of a sudden, everything I’d heard was gone, and there was just the infinite darkness again, so cold and… and _terrifying_ , but suddenly I hit the surface of some sort of water. I don’t even know how that seemed so realistic to me back then, I mean, water in space, seriously?” Tony gave a slightly hysterical laugh, dragging a shaking hand through his still sweat-damp hair, leaving it messily spiked in all directions. He reached for the glass of water Steve had gotten him earlier, almost spilling its contents as he drained it like a man dying of thirst. When it was empty, Tony paused, his fingers gripping the glass so tightly that even in the dim light, Steve could see his knuckles go white. The expression on his face was unreadable, and for a moment Steve feared Tony was about to throw up again. Then, the billionaire let out a long breath, returning the glass to the coffee table. “You’ve read all of our SHIELD files, right?”

Steve nodded in surprise, taken aback by the sudden question. Before he had the chance to inquire, however, Tony was already continuing, looking at him with a sudden intensity and openness. “Then you know about what was done to me in Afghanistan.”

It wasn’t a question, and suddenly Steve knew where this was going. Still, the words seemed reluctant to leave his mouth. “They… waterboarded you. With the…” He made a vague gesture to Tony’s chest. Thankfully, he didn’t need to finish the sentence since his friend was already nodding. “Yes. After that, you’d probably expect a guy to have some issues. With water or something else related to the captivity. Yet, I was fine. Never had a problem with swimming or putting my head in water afterwards. Sure, I was a little shaken up about the whole thing, but that was it. And you know what, Steve?” Tony’s eyes were burning holes into Steve’s. “Now, after all the shit that went down in New York, it’s suddenly there, like I’ve been running from it the whole time and now it has managed to catch up to me. The first time I woke from a nightmare that contained _both_ falling from the sky and drowning in some body of water with no surface, I was so out of it I genuinely thought I was back _there_ again.” He gave a humorless, sharp laugh and lowered his gaze, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his shirt. “Apparently, it took Jarvis almost half an hour to talk me out of it. Thank God Pepper and I weren’t together anymore at the time; I probably would have freaked her out had she been there.”

When Steve didn’t reply for a long moment, Tony looked up at him, and all the emotions flickering in his eyes couldn’t hide the insecurity etched into the brown depths. As if he feared having said too much, having revealed too much of what was behind the crumbling walls of protective charisma and sarcasm.

As much as Steve ached to say something, _anything_ to reassure him, Tony’s words had left his thoughts reeling, and he feared saying the wrong thing now might destroy all the progress made. So Steve closed his eyes for a second, trying to structure his thinking. When he opened them again, his friend was still staring at him the same way, tense like a skittish animal that was ready to bolt should even the slightest hint of danger appear.

“When was that?” Steve finally asked. His voice sounded hoarse even to his own ears.

“What, that first dream?” Tony shrugged, a hand coming up to massage his temple. “About a month ago, I think…”

A month ago. Four weeks. Steve took a deep breath; this was what he had feared. The Avengers had already moved into the Tower by then. Steve felt vaguely sick at the thought of Tony reliving his most traumatic experiences, huddling in his bedroom in absolute terror – on his own, with no company except an AI while everyone else was in the same building, sleeping peacefully.

Steve swallowed. “Tony, you-”

“No!” Tony interrupted him sharply, anger suddenly back on his face. “Don’t say it, Steve. Just… don’t. I know what you were gonna say: ‘Why didn’t you tell somebody?’ ‘You could have woken me up.’ ‘I could have helped you.’” Tony scoffed, angrily picking up his glass before remembering it was empty. He put it back and slumped against the backrest of the couch.

Steve shook his head sadly, making a mental note to get more water when they had discussed this. “But it’s true, you know?” he said quietly. “I _would_ have tried my best to help you.”

Tony huffed out a breath, eyes closed and head sinking against the couch. All of a sudden, he looked nothing but tired. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don’t _want_ your help?”

“No.”

Tony cracked his eyes open and lifted his head to look at Steve. This kind of a firm answer he hadn’t been expecting. “No?”

Steve nodded affirmatively, gaze glued to his friend’s. “No, it never occurred to me because I _know_ that’s not true, and you know it as well.”

Tony opened his mouth but Steve shook his head, continuing before he had the chance to interrupt. “I know you don’t want to believe me, but I dare say I have gotten to know you pretty well over the past weeks.”

This time, Tony snorted. “You’re right about that, Cap, I don’t believe you. You know nothing about me.” There was no bite in those words, though. Just a deep weariness.

Steve nodded almost triumphantly. “Exactly my point.”

Now, Tony looked genuinely confused. “Um… You _do_ know you’re kinda contradicting your own statement here, right? Maybe we should have Bruce check _you_ over. I had no idea that concussions are contagious!”

But the other Avenger shook his head, ignoring the jab. “You’re absolutely right. I barely know anything about you. I know the sarcastic, obnoxious and at times arrogant façade you have perfected and pull up every day. You show us exactly what you want us to see. And what you don’t want us to know, you hide carefully behind said façade. If you really didn’t want help, I’m a hundred per cent certain we would all be clueless about your struggles. Would you have called me that evening a few weeks back if you truly didn’t want me to help you? Would we be having this conversation right now?” Never once did Steve stop looking firmly into his friend’s eyes while he spoke. Tony did the same, unable to tear his gaze away as he gaped at him, stunned and silent, his face unreadable.

After a long moment, he finally opened his mouth, then closed it again, lowering his head to stare vacantly at a spot on the floor. The silence lasted long enough for Steve to wonder if he was going to reply or if he had shut down completely. After an eternity, however, Tony slowly raised his gaze again, and to Steve’s shock his eyes were brimming with tears. His heart clenched painfully. Of all the reactions he had expected and perhaps even intended with his words – this was not it. By no means had Steve wanted to make his friend cry. “Tony…”

“I’m just so tired, Steve.” Tony’s breath hitched, his voice sounding uncharacteristically low and resigned. “It’s like… like I’m always on edge, I can never just relax and stop thinking about it. Like my own mind is haunting me, trying to torture me until I break. And every time I think it’s finally getting better, it comes back full force to stab me in the back. I just don’t know how to fix this!”

Steve bit his lip in thought, his heart aching for his friend. “Have you ever… Have you considered seeking professional help?” Steve asked carefully. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I still want to help you myself, but I’m no psychologist.”

Still, Tony’s reaction was exactly like he had feared. He scoffed. “Crazy people go to see psychologists. And I haven’t lost my mind yet, have I?” Tony said it in that deprecating, sarcastic way that told Steve his friend was trying to hide again. Shove everything labeled ‘emotion’ or ‘feeling’ into a drawer and lock it firmly for no one else to access. Still, Steve could hear the slight insecurity within the question. “No,” he said calmly, “you haven’t. But talking to a therapist isn’t just for people you’d call crazy, you know. What if I told you I did so as well? Would you say I’m crazy?” Steve knew he was provoking but he just couldn’t risk Tony withdrawing again. The other Avenger stared at him with still tear-glazed eyes, probably trying to figure out whether Steve was telling the truth or not. “Why?” was everything he eventually managed to get out.

Steve shrugged. “You know, it can be kind of disturbing for a guy to wake up and be 70 years in the future. I just figured it couldn’t hurt to talk to a professional, and SHIELD was happy to help me out.”

“SHIELD?”

“They have numerous kinds of therapists, and many of them are probably specialized in post-traumatic stress. It’s not uncommon in our line of work, Tony.” He paused, giving the other Avenger a moment. “Will you at least consider it? Just… think about it?” he pleaded then.

Tony didn’t reply immediately, but Steve could see he was thinking hard. Eventually, he nodded minutely, exhaling a long breath. He pulled his sleeve down over his hand, drying his eyes as if he’d only now realized they were wet. “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll give it a thought.”

Steve nodded, smiling in relief. “Thank you. That’s good.”

Tony met his gaze briefly, and his lips twitched in a half-smile, but the nervousness didn’t quite leave his eyes. Suddenly, Steve couldn’t take the insecurity his friend was displaying anymore. This was Tony Stark, for heaven’s sake! A man with a personality larger than life itself and no qualms to speak his mind, no matter who he was talking to.

“Come here.” Steve opened his arms to him, again feeling a sense of déjà-vu as he hugged him tightly. Tony seemed to appreciate the gesture, hugging him back willingly as he relaxed slightly against Steve’s warm body. After a long moment, he said, “Thank you, Steve. It means quite a lot to me that you want to help me. Even if I don’t always, y’ know, really show it.” He chuckled quietly into Steve’s chest, sounding tiered.

“You’re welcome, Tony. I’m really glad that you trust me enough to tell me about all of this.”

“Hm-hm,” was the sleepy answer he got. Steve smiled softly and pulled back a little. Maybe you should go to sleep again, don’t you think?”

“Hmmm.”

Now, Steve couldn’t help the small chuckle that left his throat. Tony was already half-asleep again. Still, after another moment, he pulled away, curling into his blanket again as Steve got up from the couch to give him enough room to lie down. The super soldier then remembered wanting to get him more water and left for the kitchen. When he came back barely a minute later, a water bottle in his hand, Tony was already fast asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

The rest of the night passed uneventfully. Steve alternated between reading his book and drawing doodles on the margins of the journal with his half-finished crossword puzzle from yesterday afternoon. This time, he paid attention not to doze off.

The sun was just about to rise when Steve finally put the journal on the table and got up. He stretched his stiff muscles with a yawn, glancing over to the couch. Tony’s sleeping form was lying beneath the blanket, motionless but for the slight rise and fall of his chest. He looked peaceful like this, Steve thought. Relaxed. As if he had finally succeeded in defeating his demons and could now rest. Still, Steve knew it was just a matter of time until said demons came creeping up again to drag Tony back down into the dark.

Steve released a long breath and headed over to the broad window front that overlooked Manhattan’s skyline. The windows were on the west side of the building, so the only display of the rising sun were the pale golden reflections on the other buildings. More often than not, Steve was still overwhelmed with how New York had changed since the 40s, how everything had become faster, louder, brighter. Still, it were moments like this when he saw the beauty of it all. Up here, high above the city, everything seemed smaller, less… intimidating. The traffic noises were non-existent due to the thick glass and the height of the building. Now, with the morning sun painting everything in gold and complementing the pale blue of the sky, Steve could feel the majesty of Manhattan’s huge buildings.

“Enjoying the view?”

Steve startled at the unexpected voice. He hadn’t even realized how long he had been standing here, indeed enjoying the view of the city. He turned around and shrugged. “I was kind of fascinated by the colors,” he explained, only realizing how weird that sounded when the words had left his mouth. But Tony didn’t seem to mind. He grinned as he pushed himself up into a sitting position from where he had been sleeping. “Oh, you should come see my mansion in Malibu sometime. When it’s rebuilt, I mean. Anyway, the view is much better there.” He leaned his shoulder casually against the backrest of the couch. “And, well, the colors too, I guess.”

Steve snorted and watched as Tony discovered the journal full of doodles still lying on the table.

“I bet they are. How are you feeling?” Steve asked, changing the subject to avoid any potential commentary on his artwork. Well, partly at least. The other half of him was genuinely interested in his friend’s wellbeing.

Tony grimaced without looking up. “I’ve got a killer headache. But apart from that, I feel much better.”

Steve nodded, not needing to ask what ‘apart from that’ was referring to. Frankly, he was a little surprised by the honest answer. “I’m glad to hear that. Do you want more of the pain medication?”

“Nah, I’m good. That stuff makes me sleepy.”

“I think some more rest would do you good, actually,” Steve suggested. Tony was really looking a lot better than he had last night, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still a little pale and exhausted-looking.

He shrugged dismissively. “Perhaps, but have I ever struck you as a reasonable person?”

Steve huffed in amusement. “Touché.”

Tony grinned, if slightly strained with the pain, before his gaze shifted to the table again. “Man, I’m hungry,” he declared, reaching for the still mostly full package of saltine crackers from last night and cramming two at once into his mouth. Then, he got up from the couch. “I’m gonna go make coffee. You want some?” he offered, not bothering to finish chewing first.

Steve was inclined to push him back onto the couch and offer to brew the coffee himself, but then he reconsidered, knowing how much Tony hated to be mothered. He looked steady on his feet, so Steve nodded, turning towards the kitchen himself. “Sure, thank you. You’ll make the coffee and I’ll cook some breakfast. Deal?”

***

After an early breakfast, Steve decided to take a shower. Tony seemed less eager to do anything and started tapping away on his phone when Steve left for the bathroom of his quarters. By the time he returned to the living room, Tony had obviously become bored. His phone had been tossed into the cushions, and the crossword puzzle was now lying on the couch next to him. The TV was running, too, but judging by Tony’s spaced out expression, he wasn’t really paying attention. He blinked and shifted his gaze when Steve entered.

“You okay?” the super soldier asked, casually leaning against the door frame.

Tony nodded. “Sure. Nice drawings, by the way.” He pointed down at the journal next to him. “Is that one supposed to be Hulk?” Tony tapped onto one of the little doodles surrounding the crossword puzzle.

Steve felt his face flush a little. Usually, he wasn’t too self-conscious about his artwork, but this time, he didn’t even remember what he had drawn. He followed Tony’s finger. Indeed, there was a little Hulk on the margin. It looked like it had come right out of a cartoon, its head and eyes round and oversized compared to its chubby little body. “Um, I guess it is,” Steve replied, not sure if he was being made fun of or not. However, he needn’t have worried. Tony grinned. “That’s awesome! It’s cute! You have to show Bruce when he wakes up, he’ll love it.”

Steve huffed, though he was kind of relieved that Tony was genuinely complimenting his artwork. Considering half a year ago, he wouldn’t even have imagined the friendly teasing between them instead of the hostile mocking from their first encounter… Steve shook his head, not quite sure how to reply. His gaze shifted towards the crossword puzzle, noticing in surprise that almost every blank was filled now. Steve had never doubted Tony’s intelligence, but he still did find himself awestruck sometimes at the broad range of common knowledge his friend possessed. His eyes caught on the word he had been thinking about so hard before this whole mess had started. The nine boxes for ‘abnormally high respiratory frequency’ were now showing ‘TACHYPNEA’. Huh, good to know. Steve raised his gaze again, opening his mouth to finally break the silence before he froze and looked at the journal again. Tachypnea. An unusually high frequency of breathing.

Suddenly, he knew what had happened to Tony. How could he have been so blind? Everything that had occurred in the aftermath – it just fit in perfectly.

“Hey, Earth to Cap! You still there?” Tony waved a hand in front of his face.

Steve blinked, looking at him dazedly.

“Ah, still alive. You had me worried there for a second. What’s so interesting in your doodles? I didn’t blemish them! I used the pen only on the crossword, I swear! Oh, or is it that? I hope you don’t mind I fixed the missing words. _Do_ you mind?” Tony babbled on, looking back and forth between Steve and the journal.

Steve shook his head. “Tachypnea,” was all he managed, still too stunned by what he had just found out to talk in coherent sentences.

Tony frowned in confusion. “What do you mean, tachyp-” Then, something changed in his face. Steve could make out the exact moment Tony realized his secret had been disclosed. He shook his head, unable to tear his gaze away from his friend’s as he finally managed to ask, “Why… Why didn’t you tell me?”

…which was the wrong thing to say. “Tell you what?” Tony asked, one eyebrow raised in a perfect expression of sarcastic amusement. Not for the first time, Steve had to admire his acting skills. Well, if you grew up in front of the media’s cameras, you probably had to be good at showing the public what they wanted to see. Now, however, Steve wished Tony would stop acting and start opening up to him again.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Steve said, torn between frustration and desperation. He had made so much progress in the past hours, had broken through the wall of carefully built up protection and even managed to encourage him to talk about his issues.

Now, though, Tony got up from the couch and stretched his arms. “Sorry, Cap, you gotta be more specific. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, I’ve got work to do. Rested long enough, right? See ya later!” With those words, he turned around, waving his hand in a forcedly happy gesture, and marched off towards the elevator.

For a few seconds, Steve was unable to do anything but stare after his leaving friend, mouth open in surprise. Once again, Tony was slipping through his fingers. But Steve wasn’t going to let him. Not this time. “Tony, wait!” Not for the first time, he was thankful the serum had given him superhuman agility, so now he managed to reach the elevator doors before Tony did and cut off his way. Tony froze in midst the movement, obviously startled by Steve’s sudden appearance. For a second, the two of them just stared at each other, then Steve took a deep breath. “Wait,” he repeated. As if Tony had a choice in that matter. “Don’t run away, please. You’ve been doing that for far too long already. Didn’t we talk about that last night? I can’t help you if you keep shutting me out, Tony.” Steve itched to grab him by the shoulders to shake some sense into his dense head. If he hadn’t been aware that Tony was still suffering from the aftereffects of his concussion, he’d probably have given in to the urge. Now, however, he just clenched his fists at his sides. They were standing so close to each other that Tony had to look up at him to meet his gaze as he silently opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. Steve knew he had struck a nerve there. Making Tony speechless was no easy endeavor, but he seemed to have a talent for it – which came in handy more often lately than Steve would have thought.

After what seemed like an eternity, Tony seemed to regain his composure and huffed a breath, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. It was obviously meant to be a nonchalant gesture to reattain his usual display of superiority, but to Steve it just looked like a defiant act of protection. “Whatever,” Tony muttered, turning to sit back down on the couch, and Steve knew he had won. He followed his friend’s example and took a seat next to him. This position was starting to become a constant between the two of them.

“So you figured out what happened yesterday,” Tony began unceremoniously. He made no move to continue, however, which Steve took as an invitation to voice his theory. He nodded. “The word from the crossword puzzle gave me the clue. Tachypnea. An increased frequency of breathing. Something that happens to someone experiencing a panic attack, right?” His eyes were fixed on Tony’s. The Avenger in question returned his gaze motionlessly.

“So my guess is that you were caught up in a panic attack so bad you got dizzy from hyperventilating, fell and hit your head on the floor which caused you to lose consciousness.”

Tony snorted humorlessly. “Well done, Sherlock.” He ran a hand over his beard, a gesture Steve had only seen when he was nervous. Tony shook his head. “This has never happened before though, before you ask. And they always tell you panic attacks are harmless!”

Steve’s lips twitched at the attempt to lighten the mood, but he quickly sobered up again. “Why didn’t you tell us?” he inquired. “A panic attack is nothing to be ashamed of, you know. You didn’t need to pretend not to remember.”

Tony exhaled a long breath, not looking at Steve. He shrugged stiffly. “Guess I just didn’t feel like throwing another pity party,” he retorted, a sudden edge to his voice. Steve couldn’t help but think of a cornered animal baring its teeth in stubborn defense. He heaved a long sigh. “I get your point, I really do. I know it’s hard to admit vulnerability. Especially in our line of work, where the wrong person knowing your weak spots can easily end up being fatal for you. I also know you don’t trust easily, and that’s probably for the best given who you are. But Tony, please remember nobody here would use any of that against you. We’re a team.” Steve fixed his gaze imploringly on his friend who in turn continued to stare at his hands. Tony’s jaw was clenched, his tense posture indicating he was thinking, probably fighting a ferocious battle in his mind. Then, all of a sudden, he started to laugh. Not the hysterical kind of laughter that spoke of high tension and anxiety, but not the cynical, sarcastic kind either. No, Tony was laughing genuinely, if quietly, shaking his head as he did so. “Jesus, Steve, you’re too good for this world. Or at least for this century. Can’t you just stop being so… so _righteous_ for a minute? It’s interfering with my world view.” Tony was talking in a kind of humor that was neither sarcastic and insulting nor painfully self-deprecating, but rather full of astonished amusement, as if he had trouble believing that Captain America had just convinced him of his beliefs.

“That was the plan,” Steve said, only half-joking. He had been planning on making Tony understand his point of view, after all.

Tony snorted in amusement but didn’t reply. After a brief moment of silence, he sobered up again. “I would have told you, you know?” When Steve looked at him quizzically, he continued, “What happened the other day, I mean. After… after last night, I realized I was – I _am_ kinda selfish about… well, about most things, really. About not accepting the thought of being allowed to be cared about, and, and caring for other people. I mean, that’s what drove Pepper away, in the end. I just didn’t realize – or maybe I did, but didn’t want to accept it – that it must be frustrating to be shut out by someone you love. Exhausting.” Tony looked up at Steve, as if searching for affirmation. Steve nodded.

“So… sorry. For not telling you. And for lying to you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Steve agreed solemnly. The words were blunt and maybe a little harsh, judging by the way Tony nodded guiltily and dropped his gaze. However, Steve had to make sure his friend truly understood the point, and sugar-coating it wouldn’t help any of them. Still, Steve didn’t stop there, continuing, “But I’m glad you see my point now, and I believe you when you say you would have told me eventually.”

Tony nodded slowly, and his relief was palpable. Something in Steve’s chest constricted as he realized that his friend hadn’t expected being forgiven so easily.

“So… we’re good? No hard feelings?” Tony suggested with a lopsided smile, although still a bit hesitantly.

Steve returned his smile warmly. “No hard feelings,” he assured him. “Just… think about what we’ve been talking about, okay? Don’t hide from us anymore.”

Tony nodded firmly and eventually, after a moment of silence, got up once again. “I should probably really drop by my workshop,” he changed the subject. “I hope Dum-E hasn’t taken apart one of my Iron Man suits or sprayed the entire room with the fire extinguisher in my absence.”

Steve snorted. “You go do that. But come back up for lunch. I don’t think Bruce would be thrilled to hear his patient isn’t resting as he should.”

Tony grinned sheepishly and saluted him. “Aye-aye, Captain!” He turned to leave but paused before he reached the elevator. “Steve…” He didn’t turn around to the super soldier. “I can’t promise that I’ll always be able to talk openly about all this stuff. It’s…”

“It’s not easy,” Steve finished for him, his voice calm.

Tony nodded somewhat jerkily. “It’s not easy,” he repeated. “But I’ll try my best. That I promise.”

“I know. That’s all I expect of you. Things like that take their time.” Steve heard how his friend took a deep breath. Tony nodded again, this time visibly less tense. “Okay.” Now, he threw a glance back over his shoulder after all, and his dark eyes were showing more openness than Steve thought he had ever seen in them. “And… thank you, Steve,” Tony added before stepping into the elevator.

Steve smiled slightly as the doors slid shut after the other Avenger. Even though they hadn’t found a solution for Tony’s issues from the New York incident, he was now sure about one thing: His friend knew that he could come to Steve anytime and trust him with whatever was weighing on his shoulders. And that was a good start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, I hope you enjoyed reading. Thank you to everyone who commented and/or left kudos!  
> English isn't my first language, so suggestions for improvements of any kind are appreciated! ;)


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